A King in the Kitchen
by jenolas
Summary: Young Legolas and Thranduil help with preparations for a banquet in Mirkwood.


Disclaimer: LOTR belongs to the creative genius of JRR Tolkien, not me.  
  
A King in the Kitchen  
  
The Elves of Mirkwood were renowned for their love of revelry and feasting and this evening was to be one such occasion for the border patrol from the north was returning after almost a year away from home. Thranduil had ordered a banquet prepared to welcome them back, following a custom that had begun when the young King had led the remnants of his army home to Greenwood after the battle that saw the defeat of Sauron. Despite their grief at the loss of many of their kin, the Silvan Elves were so pleased to be back in their forest that they could not resist preparing a feast. It had been a bittersweet celebration with songs of joy for the brighter future ahead intermingling throughout the night with laments that brought some comfort to those who grieved. To Thranduil's mind the simple act of savouring one of the freshly baked apple and cinnamon pies had been a moment of pure bliss, especially since they were made to Tariel's secret recipe. She was an excellent cook, and the King considered her pastries in particular, to be culinary gems.  
  
Even when he had been but an elfling, Thranduil had been intrigued by her skill and whenever she was preparing her specialties for a banquet, he would find himself unable to avoid visiting her in the kitchens, to where he was now headed. Legolas was also fascinated by the art of baking, and since the elfling had injured his ankle, Tariel had invited him to help her, as she often did, knowing it would lift his sprits to do so.  
  
"I see my pies are not ready yet," Thranduil said as he entered the kitchen, walked over to the fire and casually dipped a spoon into the pot containing the stewing apples and drawing out a steaming portion to taste.  
  
"Nor will it be, if you eat the filling before Legolas has the pie shells ready," scolded Tariel as she playfully pushed her King away from the cooking fire. Legolas' eyes widened with surprise at her boldness and he was even more amazed when rather than admonish her for such behaviour, Thranduil merely laughed merrily and placed an arm affectionately around the elder she-elf's waist. "Is my elfling as skilled as a pie maker as I was at his age?" he asked.  
  
"More so, I would say, and he also has the self control not eat the pies as he works!" she added, winking at Thranduil and causing him to smile as they both remembered another elfling who had often 'helped' with the baking.  
  
The sound of pounding on the table attracted their attention and Tariel turned around to see small fists mercilessly pelting into a large ball of dough. Every thump caused a white mist of flour to rise into the air, coating both the elfling and the floor beneath the stool on which he sat in a fine powder when it settled.  
  
"Legolas, what are you doing? I asked you to knead the dough gently, not pummel it as if it was one of the Dark Lord's minions!" exclaimed Tariel as she left the pot of apples she was stewing and walked over to where her young charge was seated and rescued the pie pastry from its attacker.  
  
"I am sorry, I did not mean to hit it so hard, it is just that.well.I am very angry," the young one admitted trying desperately to hold back his tears. Tariel sat beside him and drew him close.  
  
"And what has angered you so?" she asked gently, as she wiped the flour from his cheeks. Legolas did not answer but simply pointed to his bandaged ankle. "Does it hurt much?" she asked sympathetically as she began kneading the dough herself. There were many pies to be baked before the evening's festivities, and both Legolas and Thranduil watched in fascination as her nimble fingers skilfully performed their task.  
  
"No, that is what I tried to tell Adar. It does not hurt at all, and I can even walk on it!" he declared, glaring at Thranduil as he stood slowly and gingerly walked across the room to demonstrate his claim. The cook and the King exchanged a smile of exasperation as he limped back to his seat, obviously favouring his injured ankle and grimacing with the pain he denied feeling. "I should have been allowed to go with my friends to greet the patrol as I always do!"  
  
"As we have already discussed Legolas, you can barely walk. I cannot allow you to venture away from the safety of the Hall until your ankle heals, not even with a walking stick," Thranduil added in a tone of voice that warned Legolas not to protest further.  
  
"There is no need to feel so upset Legolas, even though I must agree with your Adar. The forest is dangerous and you need to be swift on your feet should a band of orcs or one those nasty spiders suddenly attack. Besides, you can always greet the southern patrol when they return in a few weeks," said Tariel cheerfully. "Now, since you have been placed in my care for the afternoon, perhaps you would tell me how it is that you happened to fall and sprain your ankle? You are normally so sure footed, I was surprised when I saw your friends helping you to the healer's chambers."  
  
"I did not fall, I was tripped!" exclaimed the elfling hotly. "That wicked old apple tree deliberately stuck its roots out as I ran by and made me fall!"  
  
"Now why would he do that?" she asked disbelief in her voice, as she left his side to go and check on the pie filling. Deciding it needed more stirring, she silently offered Thranduil the ladle.  
  
"Because I accidentally shot him, I expect," Legolas finally answered, sounding slightly embarrassed.  
  
Tariel had sent Legolas and his friends to collect some apples and blueberries for the pastries she was baking, and in their usual fashion, the elflings had taken advantage of the opportunity to practice their archery. Rather than climb the trees and collect the fruit, they made a competition of shooting the apples from their branches. Legolas was by far the most skilful and always won, and on this particular occasion he had aimed for an apple that was a little beyond even his capabilities to reach and the arrow had strayed and hit the trunk of the most aged apple tree. Legolas had run over to apologise to the elder tree, but in his anxiety had somehow managed to trip over an exposed root and sprain his ankle.  
  
"That is certainly cause to be annoyed, but I doubt he deliberately tripped you. Has he not been your friend for many years?" she enquired as she sprinkled a generous portion of cinnamon into the pot, then reached for a glittering glass bottle, and poured a little of her 'secret' ingredient into the pot. Thranduil tried to surreptitiously determine the nature of the additive, but the bottle was unmarked so that no one, except the elf lord Glorfindel, who kept her supply replenished, would know that it contained miruvor, the cordial of Imladris.  
  
"Yes. I may have only imagined that I was tripped," Legolas grudgingly agreed. "Is it time to roll the dough for the blueberry tarts?" he asked suddenly, realising the sooner the baking was finished, the sooner he would be able to devour one of the delicious blueberry tarts Tariel always made especially for him.  
  
"Yes, and you may press as hard as you like when you do, if you think it will help relieve your anger," she said, laughing merrily as Legolas quickly floured the pastry board and began forming the pie shells.  
  
When all the pies and tarts had been placed in the oven, there was little for Thranduil and Legolas to do but wait for the pastries to be ready. Tariel, however, was not prepared to have them lurking about as she had many other dishes to prepare.  
  
"Legolas looks rather tired Thranduil, perhaps you should carry him up to his bed so that he can rest that ankle," she suggested as she raised her hand to stop them from protesting. "I know you are expecting to be the first to taste my wares, but you will both just have to wait until the feast tonight," she declared, ushering the disappointed King out of the kitchen once he had lifted his son into his arms.  
  
"Tariel was being very mean, was she not Adar?" asked Legolas as he settled back against his pillows. Not that he would admit it, but his ankle felt much better, raised as it was by a small pillow.  
  
"Well, the pastries are meant for the feast tonight, and we would not want to spoil our appetites. Perhaps it would take our minds from those delicious treats if I were to read you a story?" he suggested reaching for the plain, leather-bound book that contained several of the elfling's favourite tales. Soon they were lost in a land of wizards and elves and as he came to the end of the story, the tantalising aroma of freshly baked apple and cinnamon pies wafted in through the open windows, bringing a delighted smile of anticipation to the King's handsome features as he read the final words.  
  
".And so the elfling sang softly to the stars, thanking them for granting his wish."  
  
"Do you think the stars would grant me a wish, Adar?" asked Legolas eagerly as the story ended.  
  
"It is possible, what would you wish for?" asked Thranduil, thinking that if it were in his power, he would see his son's wish granted.  
  
"I think Tariel has placed the first batch of pies on the shelves near the window to cool," said Legolas, obviously able to smell them as well. "I wish we had one right now!" Thranduil smiled.  
  
"Then so we shall! You rest here a little longer and I will return shortly," he said as he kissed Legolas' brow before leaving the room and heading back to the kitchen.  
  
Thranduil considered delicious pies Tariel baked to be culinary gems as well as works of art, for each one was beautifully decorated with pastry leaves and flowers, and each was a great temptation at this moment. There were ten pies on the cooling shelf, as well as several blueberry tarts and Tariel was nowhere to be seen. Thranduil could hear her melodious voice echoing from the cellar and, rather than wait for her to return, he quickly wrapped a pie and a tart in a clean cloth and hurriedly returned to Legolas, feeling suddenly as if he were once again as carefree as an elfling.  
  
"Adar! How did you convince Tariel to give you these?" asked a very impressed Legolas as Thranduil carefully broke each of the pastries into two portions and handed one of each to his son.  
  
"I have yet to tell her that I took them," Thranduil admitted, a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes as a mixture of amusement and surprise danced across his son's face.  
  
"That was not a very polite thing to do Adar," Legolas said trying to sound stern as he filled his mouth with a delicious morsel.  
  
"I will apologise later, when I compliment her baking," promised Thranduil. "The pie is really very good, is it not?"  
  
"Mmm.yes. Apple and cinnamon is very nice, but I have decided that I like blueberry tarts much better!" declared Legolas.  
  
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A/N; this vignette was written both as a stand alone story, but especially for those who were wondering about Thranduil and the apple and cinnamon pie as mentioned in my story, "An Elf, A King and Blueberry Tarts" ---- jenolas 


End file.
